Kiss me, kill me
by z0mbiedance
Summary: -Loosely Based on Cause of Death. Starts with Imogeli, eventual Jimogen-. Imogen Moreno, a special agent working with her partner Det. Elijah Goldsworthy, gets stuck on a tricky murder case, involving going undercover to catch the vicious killer. But out of the four main suspects, and her own boyfriend, who will poor Imogen get torn between? And who really is the murderer?


Hello, hello, hello! I thought I'd start writing again, and then as I was playing _Cause Of Death_ aka the greatest game on the planet, I got this idea. This will start out with Imogeli, but I plan for it to be mainly Jimogen, so I guess we'll see how that turns out. c; I hope y'all like it. 3  
{Also, I'm not really sure about the rankings in the police department. I mean, Mal is a detective and Natara is an FBI agent/profiler, so…let's just go with that from Imogen and Eli, okay?}

Chapter One: Back To Go Again

"Imogen, what the fuck were you thinking?!" Eli snapped. "You almost blew the whole cover! Worse, you almost got us _killed!_ Do you even think before you say things? Do you care about your job? Do yo- wait, are you even _listening _to me?!"

Imogen pretended to pay no attention, slumped in the passenger seat, watching the raindrops slowly make their way down the window. As a child, she used to pretend they were having races, seeing who would win, reaching the bottom first. Normally when she pretended not to be paying attention, people gave up trying; but not Eli.

Noticing him fall silent, she forced herself to look at him for a moment, nibbling on her lower lip. It was a usual occurrence for her to say something stupid, or hurt someone innocent, or blow their cover completely, losing them the job. She didn't mean to, honestly. She really didn't. Sometimes she just got lost in the job, and everything seemed too real, so she tried to bring reality back into it, ruining everything. Her eyes noticeably started tearing up, causing Eli to stop scowling and for his expression to soften drastically. His fists clenched and unclenched the steering wheel, before he sighed. "Imogen…I-I didn't…c'mon, don't cry!" He groaned, trying to reach out to touch her arm in comfort. But she shifted away, leaning her head against the cool window.

"You know how I get when we're under stress, Imo."

"We're _always_ under stress, Eli. Our jobs are the least relaxing jobs on the planet." She bit out. "I'm sick of you always using that same goddamn excuse! You knew what you were signing up for when you started working with me, but no, you didn't change partners when you had the chance. Don't pretend like you're sorry. It's always like this after we go undercover."

Eli glared at the brunette, turning to face her. "For God's sake, Imogen, stop overreacting! I can't help it that you always manage to say the wrong thing! You're too dumb to get it right, even once!" He growled. She didn't even flinch. She simply grit her teeth, her eyebrows furrowing.

"Fuck you, Eli Goldsworthy." She spat.

"No, fuck _you_, Imogen."

Imogen shook her head slightly, resting back in her seat in defeat.  
To anyone else, the argument would have looked aggressive, brutal and just plain horrible

But to the partners, it was routine.

Abruptly pulling away from the curb, the two watched the building in front of them crumbling before their very eyes, before driving away.

XOXO

Walking out of the police department into the cool night breeze, Imogen wrapped her jacket around herself even tighter. It wasn't windy, but the air was bitterly cold, enough so to raise goosebumps on her arms. She felt as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders. The case she'd been pushed onto with Eli was difficult, and every single suspect they'd had so far had turned out innocent. There had been no witnesses to the killings, and everything just seemed hopeless. It was a dead-end case, she was sure. And on top of that, her arguments with the raven haired man were growing more frequent, and it was becoming harder and harder to keep their relationship on the down low in the department.

They'd made up. Her and Eli.  
She'd made a swift exit out of the car, but he'd stopped her, just like usual. They argued a bit more, they kissed, then they argued again, and then he apologized, leading to make-up sex in his office.

But she didn't care. That was their routine; how it always ended. She knew that it would happen like that again. And by the next day, they'd be at each others' throats again.

Just as she spied her old, beat-out car from across the parking lot, Imogen heard a familiar voice calling behind her.

"Imogen, wait up!" Bianca DeSousa, the lab departments' data analyst, called out. She spun round, a small smile lighting up her lips. "KC said you left this behind." She reached out, handing her a folder with paper clippings and pictures falling overflowing from it. Imogen smiled in recognition.  
"Thanks, Bee. You're a lifesaver." She nodded in thanks, turning back to her car as she pulled out her keys. But she was stopped when she realised that Bianca hadn't left. "What's up?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing. The dark haired girl shifted awkwardly, debating whether to speak up or not.  
"Look, everyone knows about you and Eli. And we all know he can be a douche bag at points, as well. Just...don't let him get to you, okay?"  
Imogen nodded again, her smile dropping slightly. "Yeah, I won't." She paused. "Thanks again." She waved the folder as Bianca stalked off, sighing as a few pictures with writing scrawled over them dropped to the ground. Bending down, she scooped them up quickly.

_Won't hurt to check up on who I'm keeping an eye on, right?_

Her gaze scanned over the four particular pictures that had fallen out; the four newest suspects.  
"Adam Torres...Hm, he's cute." She studied the first picture, chewing her lip as she looked at the picture of the boy. Flipping his photo to the back, she looked at the next one of a tall brunette.

"Fiona Coyne..."

The girl was beautiful. All too beautiful, really.

"...Clare Edwards."

Another beautiful girl. Both looked too innocent to be psychotic murderers.

"And lastly...Jake Martin." She narrowed her eyes down at the photo. It was blurry, but she could still tell through that, that he was good looking.

There was something about him that gave her the chills, and not in a good way.

In the photo, he was smiling. But his smile just seemed a lot darker; creepier than most people would expect.

"Well, gotta start somewhere." Imogen sighed to herself as she slipped the folder into her bag, unlocking her car.

"Shame it's always the hot ones."


End file.
